THE DISABLED HEIRESS, MY EX-HUSBAND WOULD PAY DEARLY.-Chapter 299

Upon hearing what Oliver just said, Cora was immediately taken aback. Her lips parted slightly, and her brows drew together in alarm. She blinked twice. Did he just say that out loud?

Yes, she had told him it was okay to greet her father. Yes, she had even suggested he be polite and not just stand there like a statue. But this? This was beyond what she expected. Presenting a gift? In front of everyone?

Her heart skipped a beat, It wasn’t that Oliver meant harm he was trying to be respectful, kind, thoughtful even. But she had warned him. She had said it more than once: Her father was a very, very picky man. One who didn’t smile at thoughtful gestures unless they came wrapped in the exact brand, the exact taste, and the exact price range that pleased him. A man who once returned a brand-new wristwatch simply because the leather strap was two shades lighter than what he liked.

So in Cora’s mind, this was it, this could be the moment Oliver dug himself into a hole he wouldn’t be able to climb out of.

Immediately she opened her mouth, ready to say something—to stop him or at least soften the blow—but she hesitated. The box was already in Oliver’s hand, extended towards her father like a declaration of sincerity. And now, all eyes were on it.

Festus’s eyes especially.

Cora could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. She glanced sideways, hoping for a miracle, hoping her father would at least nod politely or receive the box without a scene. But before her father could even utter a word.

That was when, all of a sudden, Uncle Festus broke into a loud, throaty laugh.

His voice echoed through the scene, making a few of the people to peep from around to see what was happening.

"Ha! Now this is rich!" Festus exclaimed, clapping his hands together as if someone just told the funniest joke he had heard in years. "He brought a gift? A gift? For who? For your father?"

He looked from Cora to Oliver with pure amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Oh no no no, young man," Festus chuckled again, shaking his head. "You don’t just walk into the lion’s den carrying a piece of meat and expect him to say thank you. This isn’t a joke shop!"

He leaned back slightly, still laughing, as though he couldn’t contain himself.

Cora’s face went pale for a second, her jaw tightening. She didn’t like the tone Festus wasn’t just laughing at Oliver, he was making a show out of it.

She turned toward her father, waiting for his reaction. And as for Oliver, he hadn’t said another word since he stretched the box forward. He simply stood there, calm, unmoved, his expression unreadable.

At that moment, as Clinton’s words echoed through the room, the atmosphere suddenly shifted. His voice, laced with mockery, carried a sharp edge as he stared at the box in Oliver’s hand like it was some kind of joke. The smirk on his face deepened, and he crossed his arms with a smug tilt of his head.

"What’s even inside that wooden box?" Clinton asked with a sneer, his voice rising just enough for everyone to hear. "Let me guess—maybe a wristwatch? Nah, can’t be. My uncle wouldn’t even look twice at anything below seven figures."

He glanced at Oliver with a slight chuckle, clearly enjoying himself. 𝐟𝕣𝕖𝐞𝐰𝕖𝚋𝐧𝗼𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝗰𝐨𝐦

"I mean, no offense," Clinton continued, "but from the look of you, what are you—27? Yeah. No way you can afford something that would actually impress my uncle. So what’s in there really? A tie? A cheap pen?"

Cora’s lips parted slightly, eyes narrowing as she glanced between her uncle and her cousin, her fingers twitching like she wanted to interrupt but something stopped her. She knew how they were. She had grown up in this family, she had seen this exact scene play out with many others. But never had it felt this personal. Never had they looked down on someone so close to her with so little shame.

Just then, Uncle Festus stepped forward again, his palm on his stomach as he laughed heartily like he had just heard the best joke in the world. Then, still chuckling, he waved a hand in the air.

"No, no, no," Festus said, trying to calm his laughter but failing miserably. "I’m sorry, I’m truly sorry, young man, don’t take it the wrong way. It’s just—" he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye "—it’s been what, fifteen years? Fifteen years since my brother Cora’s father has even accepted a single gift from anyone."

He turned his full attention to Oliver now, his tone softening slightly, but still laced with condescension. "And believe me, it’s not that people haven’t tried. Oh, they’ve tried. They’ve sent gold pens, luxury trips, rare art, even cars but none of it ever made it past his front door. He’s... particular. You understand?"

He leaned in just a little, as if letting Oliver in on some grand family secret.

"So you showing up here with a gift box? It’s just... amusing. Laughable, even. No offense, really. But I honestly can’t get my head around it. It’s like bringing tap water to a wine tasting."

Clinton snorted at that, clearly proud of the comparison.

Upon hearing what her uncle just said, Cora could not help but grind her teeth quietly in disgust. Her jaw tightened, and her brows furrowed in silent frustration. Deep inside, she could barely believe that her uncle Festus would stoop this low. And as if that wasn’t enough, Clinton his son—had the audacity to chime in, doubling down on the mockery. It was painfully obvious now; they weren’t just teasing Oliver. No, they were trying to push him into a corner. Make him feel small. Inferior. Insignificant. As if their cruel jabs were some kind of test to see if Oliver would break before things even got hard.

She could feel her blood warming beneath her skin, her heart pounding faster not because she was angry at Oliver, but because she was afraid. Afraid that this might crush him. Afraid that if they kept going, Oliver might begin to question himself. Might start to believe that he truly didn’t belong here. And worse, he might turn his back on her because of it.

Cora wanted to do something anything—to stop it. She wanted to step forward, to speak up and defend Oliver with every ounce of her being. But the moment she opened her mouth, her voice caught in her throat. Because what if Oliver didn’t want her to speak for him? What if he saw it as her shielding him like a child instead of trusting him as her man? The uncertainty of it all made her chest tighten. She turned slightly toward Oliver, watching him carefully from the side, but his eyes didn’t meet hers. His expression was unreadable.

In her mind, the questions were already piling up.

"What do I do now?" she thought helplessly. "How do I salvage this whole situation? What if he walks away from me tonight?"